


Delicate

by Dinthehottotty



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Din Djarin Needs a Hug, F/M, Fluff, Mando/OC - Freeform, Pre Child, Pre Grogu, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:07:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27758137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dinthehottotty/pseuds/Dinthehottotty
Summary: She just had to make the proposition, didn't she.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	1. The Voice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eivor doesn't want a touch-starved Din but he's got some violent thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eivor is pronouced like A-vore. I also usually write reader inserts so this is different.

"Mando," comes the voice like honey. It makes the bounty hunter freeze with his hand over the switch for light speed. Her voice wasn't honey, the cadence wasn't so low and smooth, gliding over his skin to give shivers. He peers over his shoulder as she slips into the room. Her voice danced on the air usually, sometimes flipping with giggles or twisting with rage. She always spoke fast and jabbered away like if she were to stop then she herself would cease to exist.

He'd heard this tone before, but never directed at himself. It was always at a merchant or an informant. Sugary sweet and impossibly soft. It had the power to make men melt and Mando could already feel the heat of it burning his skin. He gives a sigh and she moves to lean against the panel in front of the co-pilot seat, her seat. She was careful not to hit buttons, and the bounty hunter is careful not to let her be aware that her charms are already working on him.

"What do you want, Eivor?" 

"Go ahead with hyperdrive," she urges, not changing her voice. He watches as she lifts a hand toward the decorative wooden mask and peels the fur hood piece off her head. She tosses her headdress into her seat and he's expecting a flirty expression, but it's not flirty. It's serious. He flips them into hyperdrive and turns his seat toward her as she glances toward the stars flying past them. Then it's impossibly still and quiet between them, something that was a rarity. She seems to be mulling over her words.

"Mando, I trust you with my life," she begins. Dread fills him. He didn't like how she was beginning this, or ending it, he supposes. Always prepared for the worst, Eivor always says with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You know I'm here for anything you need, right?" She asks, narrowing the intense, green, cat eyes down on him. Din wishes she'd spared him from this and kept the mask on, He wants to squirm but holds it in unlike the nervous sweat breaking out on his skin. He realizes this isn't one of her notorious rhetorical questions. She's being very direct.

His answer is a nod. He's seen her do 'anything' before plenty of times. Taking plenty of blows for a fraction of the credits she deserved as a bounty hunter. She'd saved him a fortune with her negotiations alone. Gotten deals with a flirty smile or the flutter of her eyelashes alone. It genuinely amused the Mandalorian to watch grown men squirm eagerly under he seductive side. She came in handy frequently in that aspect alone. 

Despite her size she was a vicious and violent warrior. He'd underestimated her countless times in the beginning. She didn't mind though. Eivor was tenacious and loved nothing more than to impress and prove wrong. She was a snake of a woman when it came to strangers, but held honor above all else. Part of her own warrior upbringing. Some planet on the outer ring with a dying culture due to a form of utopia she despised. 

When she offered to split the reward on a bounty, he promised he worked alone. Her words being, "You can keep the credits, I'm after revenge." Perked his ear enough to make him stop. She strutted past him in heavy pelts, nearly skipping. He didn't believe it. Until the man tried to beg for his life and barely got any words out. She swung her axe and sliced both his outstretch hands clean off. The blade buried deep enough in his neck he choked on his blood and words. And she stayed true to her word. Even helped fix his ship by crawling into a space he was too big for and rewiring a few things for him. He found she was less and less annoying as time went on. The first time she revealed her face to him he was surprised to find her so gorgeous. She of course used it to flirt with a particularly grouchy merchant who melted into her hands so easily when she giggled and scrunched her nose and gave her such a deal on a part they desperately needed. 

She talked all the time and even after these two years, he still found there was so much he didn't know about her. A wild card. She crosses her ankles and her arms, settling more comfortably. "Good, because we've got to cover a need you've been neglecting," she uses a harder voice and her face crumples into irritation. She was upset with him. That didn't surprise him. She often got upset with him for not taking care of himself the way she thought he should. 

"What now?" He rumbles, feeling more comfortable now that he knew where she was heading with this conversation. He tries to turn back towards the controls but her boot shoots up between them, planting hard on the edge of the seat between his legs. He meets her gaze again and this time it holds actual anger.

"There are the basic needs, you overgrown tin can. You're actually eating now. You're drinking more water, and I'm proud of you for that. I'm still working on getting you to sleep more-"

"You sleep enough for the both of us," he jabs. It makes her face falter the tiniest bit. She was very vocal about how much she liked his 'sass'. He was hoping this would satisfy her. It simply takes the edge off. "Well, there's another one I'm worried about with you." Her expression shifts and he can see her cheeks flush a bit as those eyes leave him. "I care about you, Din," she murmurs quietly. The fact that she's using his real name for once makes his heart skip. "More than you will know." She shakes her head and he finds that hard to believe. 

"Have you ever heard of failure to thrive?" She asks suddenly, glancing back at hi, again with a hardened expression.

"No," he answers.

"It happens to babies sometimes, even if they are fed and bathed and everything they can get failure to thrived if they aren't held." Oh, no. Where was she going with this? "You know what happens if they get failure to thrive, Din?" She demands.

"They don't get good jobs?" he sighs

"They die." The air goes still. He can see the emotion rolling through her face. "People need contact. Skin to skin."

"Eivor, the creed."

"Take off your gloves," she demands. It gives him pause. Eivor lowers her foot from the seat and steps forward. "Just the gloves." She'd seen him without those before. He hesitates but knows she's stubborn. She will fight him. Finally, he shimmies out of the gloves and tosses them onto the controls then lets his hands fall onto his lap. Din wanted the conversation to come to an end. He just hoped whatever she was doing would be quick. 

Din doesn't expect her to sink to her knees between his legs. It stirs the sinful thoughts he's had about her. Her expression is no longer hard. It's melted into a heart wrenching look. Her cheeks rosy with blood as she picks up his hands in hers. She takes a moment, stroking over them with her feather light fingertips. Something that fueled his thoughts of her every time she patched him up. He'd seen this woman literally rip a man's throat out with her teeth only to flutter her hands over the bounty hunter like he was made of glass. Her touch makes him tingle as one finger traces the veins on the back of his hand. "Whenever you need to feel the touch of another person, no matter how little, you can touch me," she whispers, sliding their palms together. She peers up from under her eyelashes, the redness of her face betraying the icy expression she held. 

Then she raises his hands and buries her face in them. She sighs and closes her eyes. A thought occurs to him. They had been a team for over two years now. He knew her clan was a physically affectionate one. Two years. Two years in space with a man who man thought to be droid. A hunk of metal hidden away and as dry as the desert. And that was her companion for the last two years. She was touch starved. 

Din understands that. His parents were affectionate as well. When the Mandalorians found him he spent years trying to get passed that need to be touched. "You can touch me however you need," she repeats. "Where ever you need." He can feel the way her cheeks warm even more under his hands. She couldn't mean that. There was no way that she meant what she said. All he could do is sit in the pilot seat and watch his friend's eyelashes wet and her blush creep into the furs of her tunic. 

He wanted to bury his hands in her mahogany hair and pull it, stroke it and squeeze it in his grasp. He hated the overwhelming urge he hand to push her face into his crotch and watch more tears flow as she eagerly choked on the appendage between his legs. Eivor was cupping his fingers so delicately with hers and nuzzling his fucking palms and all he could think about is digging his teeth into her clavicle just to hear her scream. He felt like a monster in this moment. The woman he was in love with was offering herself on a platter for him so sweetly and instead of brushing her tears away he was fantasizing above abusing her rosy flesh. He wanted to ding his fingers into her thigh where he'd seen an enormas tattoo, once when she'd snuck to the fresher pantless.

So he didn't even allow himself to breath as she delicately kissed his palm. All these years he's wanted nothing more than to brush a hand over her cheekbone while she dozed in the chair beside him or brush his hand over her back as he passed her. Right now, right kriffing now she was giving him permission and some dark corner of his mind was exposing itself. He felt like he was barely holding on by a thread. 

Eivor had always had trouble asking for things she needed and he knew she needed this so how could he be so cruel to turn her away? He couldn't. This was his punishment. To sit here and suffer with his thoughts. He focused on the pink of her lips, on the way they were trembling. On how she was allowing herself to be vulnerable to him like she never had. It gave him hope that she might have sweet feelings for him as well. She gave one last, lingering kiss to his palm and pulled back with a sniff. Without meeting his eyes she shuffled to the door and paused with her back to him. "The offer stands permanently." 

Din's hands felt so cold.

The moment she's gone he drops his eyes to his hands feeling the way the want to tremble. Why couldn't he just swipe the tears from her soft face and agree? Why did the beautiful moment have to be bogged down by his desire to tear her apart in the most violent ways he could imagine. Why did her tears turn him on?


	2. Fingertips

"Well, that couldn't have gone worse," she sighs at him. Din doesn't spare a glance before making his way up into the cockpit. "How's that shoulder?" Eivor calls from behind him. She must be referring to the quarry, now dead and frozen in carbonite, had barreled the mandalorian into a wall. Dislocating his shoulder. He'd already repositioned it, but the pain was still radiating down his arm.

"It's fine." Comes the reply. He feels like he's burning up inside at the thought. 

"Get us into hyperspace and I'll take a look at it. Where's the next quarry?" she projects her voice once he's up by the flight panel. 

He hears he digging around for the med kit down below even as she says this. "Get up here and strap in." Is his reply after he calls out the name of some planet on the outer rim.

"What kind of planet is that?" She calls and he hears the awkward clunking of her one handed climb to the cockpit. She was probably carrying the med kit. 

"Icy fields." He responds. She drops into the co-pilot seat and straps down. With a spare glance, Din confirms that she does, in fact, have a med kit tucked under her arm. She also hasn't taken off her headdress yet. That's makes him a little suspicious. Din turns back to the controls and effectively takes the ship off. He ignores the bite of pain in his arm as he lifts it.

"Better than the desert, I suppose." He agreed. Every warm planet they landed on she would shuffle down into what was basically her undergarments. The sun never bothered her skin, the sand never affected it, she just hated the heat. This was an increasingly frustrating thing for Din. The longer they had been working together, the sweeter her sweat looked on her skin and the more divine she felt when she leaned on him. At least on the cold planets she would bundle into furs and hide the ink embedded in her taunt skin. She just looked so good in her traditional wear. Din struggled to focus, especially on fighting his own battles. Eivor was just one of the best fighters he'd ever witnessed and it was absolutely mesmerizing to watch her.

It only took him a few minutes to jump, and he was surprised by the quiet that lingered during it. It had been several weeks since she'd propositioned him and there was no change between the both of them. She went back to her endless chatter and he stayed in his head. He hid the emotions and desires for her under the wall of metal that would always remain between the two of them. He twisted in the seat to look back at her painted in the light of the stars. She'd taken off her headdress. It rested over her lap with the med kit. Her arms were crossed and her head lolled back against the seat. A bruise was growing around her eyes. Blackening on either side of her nose. She'd gotten hit good. The twi'lek had nailed her with a kick at one point and Din had wondered if it had disoriented her at the time. He wouldn't be surprised if it had. 

Those crystal green eyes rested shut, comfortably. The rise and fall of her chest was slow. "Don't tell me you're asleep already," he calls. She doesn't respond a bit. The air is thick and warm with something comfortable. Something Din knew if he woke her and asked, she'd be able to describe it perfectly. 

He couldn't blame her for falling asleep. This was an exhausting quarry. Din feels himself sigh because the next urge frustrates him. He wants to feel her skin under his. So he begins to pull at his gloves. She did say that it was whenever he wanted. He stands and moves closer. He was just going to look at her injury was all. 

Shit, why did he feel the need to come up with a story when she was the one that propositioned him in the first place. All of those worries were washed away like footprints on a beach when he brushed a hand across her cheek. Her cheek was so soft and smooth. She rolls her face into his hand, sleepy eyelids fluttering to glance at the metal helmet in front of her. "Does it look as bad as it feels?" She murmurs. Din let's his fingers stroke at the fresh rosiness of her cheek. 

"Yeah, you'll be sore for a few days." Eivor's eyes flutter closed again and she sighs into his hand. "Head to bed," Din tells her. There's no edge to it. Just the syrupy exhaustion they both feel melting around them both. "I'll scrounge up something for the both of us, okay?"

"Come lay down with me," she whines softly, face crumbling around the bruises. "We can eat when we wake up." 

A tempting offer. So tempting that Din almost caves. "Go get some rest," he presses once more. She peers her eyes open to give him the least threatening glare he's ever had the delight of witnessing on her face. Very nearly playful, but too tired to hold much more than inconvience in her face. 

"Please," she whispers. "We can turn the lights off." So that he could take off his helmet. He sighs. She wanted to feel him. Wanted something more than his hands to cradle her face. This was her way of asking him.

"Alright. Head down." He orders. A gentle smile rolls across her face.

He doesn't expect to step out of the fresher and find the cots have been pulled out of the sleeping quarters. He glances across the darkness of the hull and sees the mess of pillows and blankets in the tiny storage closet sized room. It was far from the first time she'd done this. Her little nests were secretly one of the most comfortable ways to sleep. She always cleaned them up by the time the mandalorian went to bed. The only time he'd been able to sleep in it was when he was too tired to unflip the cot and just fell onto it. it worked though. He'd comfortably slept longer than he had in ages.

She's already in it. He can see those mahogany locks somewhere in the mix of blankets and approaches. He closes the door, bathing them in the darkness of the room. No light. His helmet thunks to the floor next to where he'd shut the door. Then he sinks to his knees and feels his way under a blanket.


End file.
